


Quiet

by calhale



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Canon, Self-Acceptance, difficulty with change, struggling with self
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calhale/pseuds/calhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky lays in bed at night and tries to figure out who he and Steve are now that they have both been changed by their pasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this very late at night while also laying in bed thinking about who I am. All the feels exploded out of me. I'm Sorry-not-sorry. Bucky needs to listen to a Beyonce album or something. He needs to relax. My inner Steve spends a lot of time on the internet and suggests this as the preferred cheer up method. Un-beta'd due t it's late night birthing. 
> 
> I don't own these characters. This is a free fan work.  
> Dedicated to Setra- She has more feels than me.

Bucky laid in the dark and watched Steve's lips part ever so slightly with each exhale as he slept. He was so quiet now. The first night Steve had managed to lay them down in the large sprawling bed he'd woken several times thinking Steve had simply died in his sleep. He's hover his finger tips, the one's still made of flesh and bone, in front of Steve's lips to make sure he was still breathing. 

The thing was, Steve had never been quiet. Not when they were young and Steve had been so small. His night times had been rough and often he would actually stop breathing and startle awake when his lungs started to burn. He'd cough and hack his way through the night and Bucky had grown used to it. The noise let Bucky know Steve was still there when they shared Bucky's barely there mattress and the quilt Steve's grandmother had given him when his mother died. 

Bucky pulled the overly priced comforter on Steve's bed tighter around them. His eyelids were heavy with sleep but he couldn't close them. Stark tower wasn't home. He couldn't hear the noise of the city this high up and the building didn't shake whenever a train rolled by. It made him nervous, for himself, and for Steve. 

This thing with Steve was new. It shouldn't have been, he thinks. He remembers caressing Steve's small frail cheek and kissing his temple as Bucky fucked him in the dark of Steve's shitty apartment in Brooklyn. He can recall the way Steve had trembled and come apart under his hand; and how Steve couldn't stay quiet even when they knew if the neighbors found out they'd be thrown out and probably beaten. Steve said it shouldn't matter. They should be allowed to love who they loved and Bucky agreed. He could take the beatings and Steve would have too. But Bucky couldn't risk losing his precious friend; not due to the intolerance of bigots and thugs. 

Everything was different now. The world was a different place and they were different men. Steve was so quiet. They kissed and touched and Bucky had thought, at first, it would be like before. He tried to cup Steve's face in his hand but instead of a soft pale cheek there was a strong hard jaw beneath his fingertips. Where before, when he would slide between Steve's thighs and he would practically blanket the young man with his large frame, he now found a body that was bigger and stronger than his own. When he touched need damp skin it was like touching silk cover steel. Steve didn't wheeze or cough or gasp for air as Bucky bent him in two. He just laid there and moaned these soft little whimpers that were too much and not nearly enough like who they used to be. 

And maybe, like the city they grew up in was now filled with metal and monuments, so was Steve. Maybe instead of being exposed to the world like his own body was, this new quiet Steve was a machine too. Perhaps this new world, the so called better world, had made Steve into a monster as well. 

Bucky watched Steve sleep a while longer before he gave in and laced his metal fingers with Steve's flesh covered ones. “To the end of the line.” He whispered softly to the quiet dark. He couldn't quite be sure but as Bucky finally succumb to sleep he could swear Steve's lips had curled up into a now rare smile. They would walk boldly into this strange world that had tempered them both into machines together. They were both more than the sum of their parts, and Bucky was not going to be quiet about it.


End file.
